I want to rip him limb from limb
Bite and scratch his tender skin
Hit him shake him make him see
All that his is missing in me
Use my nails to rend and tear
Bite his skin until he bleeds
Then you think he’ll want me?
Do not cross me, let me pass
You do not want to taste my wrath
You think me weak, you would be wrong
It’s true what they say about a woman scorned
©Saroya Poirier
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